


Chew on This

by Nejinee



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Avengers Family, Crack-ish, Established Relationship, Gay Bar, Humor, M/M, One Shot, Supernatural Elements, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-28
Updated: 2018-04-28
Packaged: 2019-04-28 20:53:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14457537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nejinee/pseuds/Nejinee
Summary: So apparently there are vampires in the 21st century? Great. Just GREAT. Bucky's not happy about it at all.Especially when one gets its dirty hands on Steve.Bucky has to be the grumpy-ass hero, while Steve is no help at all.





	Chew on This

**Author's Note:**

> This idea woke me up one night, so here it is, in all its unbetaed glory.  
> This is not even remotely serious or high quality, but it had to happen.

Bucky is very,  _ very _ unhappy with the whole situation. What an unbearably shitty place to be right now.

He glared daggers at the fourth dude who sidled up beside him at the bar. The club was a deplorable nightmare, scratching at his every sense, his every frayed nerve. This was how serial killers were made.

The dude smiled and opened his mouth to probably toss out some lame pick-up line, when Bucky cut him off. “I’m not interested and if you ask me again, I’ll rip your frosted tips off one by one and embed them behind your knees, strand by strand,” he growled over the thumping bass beat that shook the concrete walls.

The guy wilted, smile dropping off instantaneously. He nodded awkwardly, stumbled back and hustled off.

Good.

Bucky was working.

And the guy wasn’t his type. 

Not blonde enough, not tall enough, not bull-headed enough. 

As if anyone in this cesspool of avante garde gothic subculture would ever be good enough.

Bucky snorted, swirling his drink.

Steve was taking his time, scouting the dancefloor and lounge area. Seems it’s actually pretty easy to get access to the VIP parties if you’re Captain America. Captain America in a tight t-shirt, in a goth gay club.

Bucky rubbed at his brow, a headache blooming behind his eyes.

If Barton had just…

“Damnit,” he sighed.

The music changed, shifting from thumping bass beats to a shrill screeching that was more akin to the sound of possums being squished than to music of a bearable sort.

Humans made this music. Humans with ears. WHY.

“This fuckin’ planet is doomed,” he grumbled into his whiskey.

“Hey!” Steve appeared out of nowhere.

Bucky choked on his last sip. He bent over the bar stool beside him, and coughed up what felt like half a lung.

“Oh Jeez, Buck,” Steve said, patting his back.

“I swear to...God,” Bucky gasped, standing up, “I’ve lived too long to die coughing on cheap alcohol in a dirty basement trash pit like this.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Steve said. He didn’t look sorry. “But I may have an in.”

“You do?” Bucky frowned skeptically. Leaving Steve up to infiltration duty usually never worked. He was more of a  _ bust ‘em and break ‘em _ kinda guy. Romanov would have been better, but she’d been waylaid by Barton’s...predicament.

Once they’d declared this underground gay club as ground zero, though, it had been almost unanimous that Steve head up the search, preferably in one of his indecently tight workout shirts and those jeans that hugged his butt. Bucky hadn’t agreed on any of that, but once inside (obviously not letting the idiot go alone) he got the idea.

This club full of gothed-out gay men was perfect for a sunny, bright super-babe like Steve. He practically  _ glowed _ . Heads turned and jaws dropped and Bucky was certain he could  _ hear _ the boners popping.

Hell yeah, Steve was the hottest thing on two legs.  _ Duh.  _ Using that to their advantage wasn’t ideal, but it made it a lot easier for them. He was a big gay icon now and Bucky was his surly boyfriend pretending not to be his boyfriend.

So Steve had an in. He’d been flirted with and toyed with all night by guy after guy lookin’ to cop a feel. He took it in stride, intent on finding someone in the place who knew _ something _ .

Steve was talking close, his deep voice a pleasant rumble. “I do have an in, I think. About the vamps, I got a guy who says he might know something. Says he’ll come get us in a few. I think we hit the jackpot, Buck.”

Ah, right.

Vampires.

Bucky pinched the bridge of his nose and settled back onto the barstool. The party raged on around them.

So,  _ apparently, _ in the 21st century, there were vampires. Actual blood-sucking monsters from fairy tales, out here to give Bucky the heebie-jeebies and crank up his paranoia to new unimagined heights. Gone were the days of generic men stabbing unsuspecting folks. Nope, now it was monsters that drank human blood. 

A slew of murders had caught JARVIS’ attention based on the way the victims had died. Exsanguination was never normal; And the victims had been piling up. The Avengers were called in and the whole thing got way too weird, mostly because Bucky hated leaving their tiny Brooklyn apartment, and Tony hated working with  _ him _ specifically; but Steve wanted to find out what was plaguing the streets of Manhattan and...well, they followed the trail to its inevitable terminus. 

Downside: Barton got jumped and some guy had fuckin’  _ bitten  _ him, and  _ Jesus,  _ Romanov had had to fight the thing off with more than just guns. Seems the freak wasn’t gonna fall from some measly small-calibre bullets, no way.

Barton was a damn wreck. Romanov had hauled him in, bleeding all over the place, his eyes faded, his skin sweaty and his pulse weak.

He’d babbled about the man licking his neck,  _ drinking _ his blood. The man had whispered sweet nothings in his ear, hinting that Barton could maybe have stayed longer and enjoyed it, making the whole episode that much weirder. When Romanov had turned around, hearing Clint’s wails as he was dragged behind a dumpster, she’d actually frozen. The Black Widow had _ frozen. _ Unheard of. Her best friend was being sucked on, not by a lover, but by an intrepid motherfucker with long-ass fangs and a hissing voice not unlike a cat. The guy had also pretty much vanished into thin air when she’d attacked. He was there one second, and the next: poof!

Bucky wasn’t thinking bats, but...well,  _ bats. _

So they had vampires now.

Great. What a time to be alive. It was things like this that had Bucky almost wishing for cryo.

After piecing together the police’s shoddy, mishandled and missed cases, they’d all figured there was a monster, a fuckin’  _ vampire, _ somewhere downtown.

It had taken almost a week and at last, a break. They absolutely had to annihilate the bastard, even if only for Bucky’s sanity and Clint’s longevity.

Barton was still under medical supervision, freaking out.

“You think I’m gonna turn?” he babbled on the daily. “You think I’ll become a vamp? I don’t want to! I mean, the perks might be good, like living forever? Could I live forever?  _ Should _ I live forever? Would that be playing God, stepping over and above mother nature herself? And blood-swilling, you think I could manage that? I dunno. Unsanitary. You’d all die eventually too, huh? That would be a bummer.”

Bucky agreed to this mission because he could not,  _ would not _ , listen to Barton go on about his possible immortality forever. They had to find whoever had drunk his friend’s blood and preferably tear them to pieces, grind their remnants into a smoothie and then fire it into space where some health-conscious aliens could suck them up from their own mason jar mugs.

However, as much as Bucky wanted to hunt the fucker down and kill him, people had other plans. Stark wanted to bring him in unharmed.  _ Science! Experiments! _ Romanov wanted to interrogate and alarm, and possibly dig out others. Bruce was just hoping they could figure out how to help Clint. The archer was looking paler and weaker by the day and if he didn’t survive...well, they didn’t want to be unprepared for what may or may not follow.

Fuck that.

Bucky was gonna stab the fucker the minute he found the den. Hopefully before Steve though. Lord knows what would happen if the nation’s longest living fossil suddenly became one with the night. Bucky was  _ not _ gonna live with a Batman. He had limits.

“Baby, c’mere,” Bucky sighed, waving Steve closer. The club’s lights cast a beautiful red glow over Steve.

“What?” Steve stepped up to him. “I got something in my hair?”

“Naw,” Bucky reached around and grabbed Steve’s ass, hauling him even closer to stand between Bucky’s knees.

Steve grunted.

“ _ Buck _ ,” he hissed.

“What?” Bucky blinked, “So other guys get to grope you all night and I don’t get the privilege?”

“Nobody  _ groped _ me,” Steve murmured.

“Pal, I watched about five different guys lick you up and down with their eyeballs not fifteen minutes ago.”

Steve rolled his eyes, “You’re one to talk.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Bucky saw a man appear from one of the back bar doorways. Bucky gently pushed Steve away. “I think your escort’s looking for you.”

Steve twisted. “Oh, hey, yeah. That’s Patrick. He says he might have info.”

Steve waved the guy down.

He was a handsome dude, this Patrick. He wove through the crowd, smiling awkwardly as he bumped a few guys dancing sinuously together.

“Hi again,” he nodded to Steve.

Oh dear. The lad was in awe of Cap, going by the starstruck big brown eyes and the pink cheeks. Well, Bucky shouldn’t be surprised, not really. His best friend was a helluva looker, after all.

“Patrick,” Steve patted the man on the back, dragging him closer. “Meet Bucky.”

Bucky nodded in greeting. “Hi.”

“Uh, hi,” Patrick seemed confused. “Um, I didn’t know you came with someone,” he directed this at Steve. He swiped at his floppy brown hair and Bucky noticed the dark eyeliner ringing his eyes. He had thick leather armbands and a miscellany of bracelets up both forearms.

Steve smiled, “Sorry, yeah. Bucky’s here to help.”

Bucky just folded his arms and sat back on the stool, propping his feet on the footrest beneath. He’d borrowed one of Steve’s stupid shirts and it was digging in under his pits. Bucky always forgot how small the damn things were.

“Okay, sure,” Patrick nodded, eyeing Bucky’s biceps. Did he have  _ glitter _ on his cheeks? “Well, I mean, if you want to follow me? We don’t need anyone else though, it’s just the client list behind the bar is all. Nothing fancy”

The guy blinked up at Steve. Man, he really did have nice eyes though. Sort of a milky chocolate with gold sparks.

Steve blinked right back. He cleared his throat.

“I can come with,” Bucky said loudly. “Got nothin’ better to do.”

“No,” Patrick sighed, “It’s probably best you don’t. Might get me in trouble with the boss.”

Bucky peered at the guy. He was tall, but lanky, so not a danger to someone like Steve, obviously. But still. Who knows who was watching. Even Hydra could have undercover gays lurking in the shadows.

Steve turned to Bucky and placed a big hand on his chest. “You don’t need to,” he said, voice level. “I’ve got this one.”

Bucky eyed Steve. “You sure?” Steve seemed to pause, mouth drooping a little. “Steve?” Bucky frowned.

Steve nodded, “I’ve got this.”

And he turned, following Patrick, who was already walking back towards the almost invisible rear door of the club.

“JARVIS,” Bucky murmured.

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes,” came the familiar A.I. in his ear.

“Steve’s tracker is still on him, right?”

“Indeed it is, sir,” JARVIS said.

_ Good. _ Bucky nodded. Not that Steve had to know that Bucky planted mini trackers on almost all his clothing. One could never be too careful.

“Captain Rogers is moving to the second storey,” JARVIS said. “No reason as yet for concern.”

“Mmmm,” Bucky turned and waved at the barkeep. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

Steve wasn’t a safe bet always, especially when it came to his own safety.

Bucky sipped at whatever fruity pink drink the bartender had offered him. It was very sweet and came with a slice of peach. He bit into the peach, reminded of the canned kind Steve preferred. The kind with the thick juices and soft fruit inside. Maybe he could find a recipe for some kind of upside-down peach pie. That would be great with whatever roast Bucky could plan for the Sunday coming. Damn, the fruity cocktail was hella good.

Steve wouldn’t be too long, so another drink wouldn’t go amiss.

After twenty minutes, JARVIS crackled in Bucky’s ear.

“Captain Rogers’ signal has gone silent, Sergeant,” JARVIS said, his calm tone barely rousing Bucky.

“What? Why?” Bucky sat up straight.

“Unsure, sir,” JARVIS said. “My recordings indicated that he was still conversing with the man who led him upstairs and–

Bucky was already across the club and throwing the secret door wide open. He heard a loud  _ crunch _ and enough audible gasps to indicate that perhaps he’d embedded the door in the other wall. Whoops.

Bucky burst up the bar stairwell, destroying more doors and denting the corner drywall in his haste to get upstairs faster. Nothing on the second floor; Only a terrified woman behind a computer, and storage rooms.

He found the second stairwell and growled. He yanked, hearing an inside lock break. This stairwell led to the roof. He barreled up the stairs, wishing he’d brought his beretta, but incognito in public generally meant no firearms. That’s what Steve believed anyhow.

He kicked down the final door, making the metal scream and bend. He shoved at the reinforced steel. It whined open, chains and locks falling to the gravelled rooftop floor.

The wind was cold up here, the moon bright. He cast about the open roof area, expecting a mob, a swell of demons, his worst nightmare,  _ anything _ . 

A small round table was set up with a single red rose in a vase. Steve was seated at the table, his eyes glazed over, his demeanour soft and pliable, hands on his thighs. First warning sign, really. Steve was never pliable, not unless Bucky had him in bed. And _ this _ was not  _ that. _

Patrick was laying a napkin on the table, like he was setting up for...dinner. But he paused at Bucky’s entrance, brows rising.

Bucky pulled a knife from under his shirt, tucked in the back of his jeans.

“You,” he hissed. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Patrick stood up and sighed, tilting his head back. He stared at the night sky for a moment before looking at Bucky again. “Really?” he said, voice a drawl. “I can’t have even an hour?”

“An hour for what?” Bucky stalked over to the table.

Patrick’s eyes flashed a bright yellow and  _ poof _ he disappeared.

Bucky almost stumbled, twisting on his feet. “Are you fucking kidding me?” he roared, slicing at the air with his favourite knife. “Goddamnit!”  _ What the hell? _

The  _ vampire _ (he had to be!) reappeared on the other side of the rooftop, grinning.

“You’re interrupting our date,” he said.

“Steve, get out of the fucking way!” Bucky huffed, going after the  _ thing _ .

Steve didn’t move. 

They’d suspected all along that there would be a basement full of vampires waiting to maim and kill them, but this was quite the opposite. So it turns out the scrawny, mildly handsome white guy with heavy eyeliner, ripped jeans and a flair for the dramatic was a vamp. Go figure. 

“Please don’t tell me you’re his lover,” Patrick the Vamp said, head lolling to the side. Bucky lunged for him and almost toppled over the roof edge when the man disappeared. An acrid smell was left where he’d been standing. Bucky turned.

“You’ll never catch me,” Patrick said, back again. He skipped just out of reach. “You should probably stop trying to nick me.”

“What have you done to Steve?” Bucky growled, stalking over. Why the hell wasn’t Steve helping? Hadn’t he been the one panicking about this fuckery?

Patrick disappeared again, reappearing on Steve’s left side, hand pressed under Steve’s jaw. “I couldn’t believe it, you know,” he murmured with a toothy grin. “Captain America, here! It was too much to bear. I could never let this opportunity go.” He grinned like this was all fun and games. “The stories...the man of America. I was intrigued all these years, even when he was alive before, oh yes. He made the headlines frequently. I didn’t ever think I’d have the  _ chance!” _ His eyes sparkled wildly as if lit with fireworks. It was creepy as all fuck.

Bucky’s stomach rolled. He dared not move. The knife handle leather creaked in his fist. The vamp, the  _ fucker _ , moved too quick. Bucky had to  _ think _ .

The monster had Steve’s face in his pale hands. His fingers were strange, blackened from the tips, as if they were turning to coal.

“Imagine what the blood of a supersoldier could do for me!” Patrick said, eyes wild. “Such purity, such untainted deliciousness. It’s been eons since I’ve had a good, proper meal.”

“I’m a supersoldier too,” Bucky said. “Come a little closer and I’ll let you suck on me, bitch.”

Patrick glanced up and smirked. “Tempting.” His eyes trailed over Bucky. “Certainly tempting, but I think the real artifact might be more beneficial.” He eyed Bucky’s metal arm warily. “You look...damaged.”

“Don’t touch him,” Bucky took a step closer.

The vamp’s nails dug into Steve’s neck. “Careful,” he hissed, all pleasantness dropping from his voice. “He can’t, won’t move and I could slit his throat in a second, serum or no.”

Bucky gritted his teeth.  _ Shit. _

Something was wrong. Steve wasn’t talking, wasn’t responding. Bucky’d just walked into  _ this  _ with no idea what to do about it.

“What did you do to him?” he said, fists tight.

“Hmmm,” Patrick hummed, peering up at Bucky. “It’s an old thing my master taught me. When he made me.”

He stared down at Steve’s glazed over expression. “You know, my kind have always walked this earth. We’ve brought magic and authenticity to all human existence, reminding the peons of their mortality, their weakness. Captain America...he is blessed to even have me drink from him.”

“Hey Death Cab, I asked you a question,” Bucky said, quelling his nerves. A beep sounded in his ear. “You blood-sucking sack of turds.”

The vamp pouted and glared at Bucky, finally looking away from Steve.

“Well, you’re  _ rude _ ,” he huffed, standing up. “Can’t a man be poetic even for a second? What  _ has _ the world come to?”

“You’re no man,” Bucky retorted. “You’re a sick monster, eating people. Fuck, man, vegans exist now, can’t you figure your shit out?”

Patrick scowled at him. He petted Steve’s cheek, like Steve was a damn dog.

Steve blinked slowly, head shifting.

“What’s wrong with him?” Bucky said, trying not to lunge out in rage. He wasn’t good at this part of interrogation: the part where Steve’s in danger and he has to keep his cool.

Patrick shrugged, “You know, I just wanted to draw the mystery out a bit. Can’t even do that anymore,” he shook his head. “Kids these days. They only want to get to the point, go go go! Click, click, snap, snap! Taking no time to observe, to soak it in.”

He followed Bucky with his eyes as Bucky shifted sideways. The vamp smiled slowly. “He’s under my artifice,” he whispered.

Bucky stared back.

The vamp’s smile dropped after a few seconds and he stopped petting Steve. “Oh my  _ God _ . Magic!” He threw up his hands. “You idiot. I put a spell on him. I can ease a person’s passing right before I drain them. Jesus.” he shook his head in exasperation, like interacting with Bucky was like teaching a four year-old not to throw their food on the floor.

“You bit my friend,” Bucky said. “You’re a monster.”

The vamp frowned. “The archer?” he said, brows furrowed with fake concentration. “Hmm, yes. Sorry-not-sorry about that. He smelled quite delicious and, well, it’s been a while. I was out of the country; Taste-testing tour of Spain and Italy. It was magical, I highly recommend the rustic folk. They are remarkably robust.”

“You think you’re some connoisseur?” Bucky asked, wondering what his life had become if he was talking blood with a damn supernatural creature.

Steve sighed softly. Bucky glanced at him, concern blossoming on his face.

The vamp waved a hand in the air, ”Well, I am the last of my species, you know. So yes, a bit. I’ve tasted almost all ethnicities and types.” He grinned, like that was something to be proud of. “Ethiopians are my favourite.”

Bucky paused, “Is that why you bit Clint? Because you’re the last? You’re turning him into one? Into a bloodsucker? Making yourself some friends?”

Patrick scowled and shuddered visibly, “Ew, no. Do you  _ know _ how long it would take to drain a body, wait for it to weaken and then pump my  _ own _ blood back into the person?” He waved a blackened hand. “Ugh, way too much effort. No, no, I like my solitary existence thank you very much.”

“So if I murder your ass, you all die out?” Bucky said slowly.

“If you ask nice, I might let you anyway,” Patrick winked. He stroked a finger under Steve’s chin. Steve’s head moved to the side.

Bucky’s jaw clenched. “Let him go.”

“Uh, no,” Patrick’s frou-frou hair billowed in the wind.  _ Pompous ass. _

Bucky took a slow breath.

He counted to three.

“Steve, move!” he yelled and threw himself forward.

The vamp’s eyes widened in surprise, “Are you  _ mad! _ I’m a  _ vampire _ you-oof!”

Bucky decked him clean across the jaw. Patrick went flying and Steve, the glorious idiot, tumbled sideways onto the ground like a starfish.

Oh God, Bucky had guessed right. The vamp had underestimated a supersoldier’s strength, even against magic it seemed. Not only could Bucky get in a quick sucker-punch, but Steve took six times as much medication to knock out, so it seems stupid magic worked pretty much the same. Bucky  _ always _ bet on Steve and he never lost.

“You  _ hit _ me!” the bloodsucker screeched, scrambling to his feet. “Ow!”

“C’mon, c’mon,” Bucky lunged for Steve and tried to drag him across the roof. 

“Guh,” Steve was incoherent, his hands and feet flopping uselessly. He could barely stay on his knees. Bucky got a grip of him and hoisted–

A whoosh of air, and Steve was gone. Bucky stumbled back, confused.

“You get your paws off him!” he yelled, spinning about wildly, blood rushing through him, rage filling up the rest. 

Patrick had Steve, a pale thin arm around his soft neck. Seems Steve was perhaps too heavy for the scrawny guy to carry right now. Maybe he relied on his magic more than his strength.

“I wasn’t going to kill him!” Patrick squealed in some unearthly note. “I just wanted a taste, you prick! I wanted to get to know him! Maybe, you know, take him on a tour of South America. GOD.”

He was breathing heavy, his face unmarred by Bucky’s earlier punch. So hitting didn’t work much.

“But now, oh  _ now _ I’m going the whole hog. You asshole. I’m gonna drain Captain America and there’s  _ nothing–” _ he popped out of view as Bucky lunged for him. “– _ nothing _ you can do about it!” the vamp was across the roof, the city lights outlined behind him. Bucky heard a distinct sound, not unlike his knives unsheathing. His stomach flipped. He dropped his blade.

“No, wait!” Bucky gasped when he saw the fangs. “Wait!” His heart thumped in his chest when he realized he couldn’t actually catch the guy, or stop him. Bucky was fast, but he wasn’t  _ that _ fast. If he was too rough, the guy could do anything to Steve. You don’t need super strength if you can magically teleport to the top of the Empire State building and drop a man off it.

Steve whined and wriggled, hands flapping at the vamp’s arm tight around him.

“This will teach you a lesson,” Patrick hissed, teeth bared monstrously. “Never fuck with me. I can’t be beaten.”

And he twisted his head down, pulling Steve’s head back, baring his pale neck.

“No!” Bucky bellowed.

A sharp crack echoed around them and Patrick’s face all but bounced right off Steve’s neck.

The vampire stumbled back, dropping Steve like a sack of flour.

“Ow!” the vamp wailed, hands going to his mouth. “Oh my  _ God! OW!” _

Steve fell to the ground and flopped around like a dying fish. Bucky took a chance and rushed to him.

“Steve!”

“M’Bucky…” Steve slurred, looking up at him with glazed eyes.

“You fucking asshole!” Patrick continued wailing. He was poking at his mouth, clearly in pain. “Oh my god, I think you chipped my tooth!”

He pushed his lips back and Bucky could see....yup. One fang was definitely missing a point.

He couldn’t help it, he burst out laughing.

“The hell is wrong with you?” Patrick screeched, stomping over. “I broke a tooth on him! This is insane! Stop laughing! This isn’t funny, you fuckin’ ingrate, ungracious oaf!”

And that just set Bucky off again. Like  _ he _ was the inhuman monster!

“Seems like you underestimated a supersoldier after all,” he snorted, choking on his giggles. He fell all over Steve. 

Clearly Steve’s skin was too tough for something as mundane as a pair of sharp teeth. The guy had withstood Chitauri weapons, the arctic ice, stabbings, fire and all sorts of ballistic hell.

Bucky should have known.  _ He should have known! _

Patrick hissed, hands over his lips. “I hate you. Whoever you are.”

Bucky sat back on the graveled ground and pulled Steve across his legs.

His earpiece blipped.

“You don’t know me? Huh.” He looked down at a struggling Steve. “Babe, you know me?”

Steve slurred, but nodded.

_ “Babe?” _ the vamp hissed incredulously. “What?”

Bucky grinned, “Tell the ancient emo.”

“M’Bucky,” Steve struggled, rolling over slowly, face jammed into Bucky’s thigh. He wobbled on his knees, hands pressing against whatever he could get at.

“I could still kill you both,” the vamp hissed, eyes flashing. His black fingers flexed and sharp talons broke free of his skin, actually making Bucky jump.

“Christ, you’re gross,” he uttered.

The vamp stalked closer, “I’m going to slit your throat and make him  _ watch _ ,” he hissed, mouth wide, fingers like claws.

Bucky smirked, holding onto Steve. “I don’t think so, pal. Good luck in hell.”

“Incoming, sir,” JARVIS said.

The vamp lunged at them and Bucky ducked just as a white hot beam sliced across the air. The smell of singed hair and flesh followed immediately after.

Patrick screamed, his upper half severed from his lower. The two pieces of vampire tumbled to the ground and rolled away. Bucky covered steve for a moment, then glanced up.

The air was rustling louder, and lights were beaming down on them from above.

Bucky helped Steve settle in beside him.

“Hey, hey,” Bucky murmured, pulling Steve’s cheek to his own shoulder. “I got you.”

The air whipped around them and the unbelievable droning roar of a helicopter bore down on them.

“Did we get him?” Natasha yelled, hopping from the blackness, hair whipping about her face. She landed perfectly, crouched, ready. She was in velour sweatpants, an oversized Giants hoodie and Adidas sneakers.

“Yeah, barely,” Bucky barked, hand going to Steve’s ear.

Natasha came over and stared down at the severed creature.

“Is he gonna keep screaming like that?”

Bucky scowled at the stupid shrieking supernatural idiot on the ground not too far away. “I guess so?”

Natasha rolled her eyes. “Drama queen.”

 

* * *

“So I’m not gonna turn into a gargoyle, or a creature of the night?” Clint actually  _ pouted. _

“Hey,” Bucky grunted, “We risked our lives for yours.”

“Yeah, and it turns out we didn’t even need to,” Steve sighed from beside Clint’s hospital bed.

Typically, naturally, the vampire spilled what he knew. Turns out you can’t become anything just from having a couple pints of blood removed from your body. Basic science really.

But the vamp was incarcerated, with Fury and Stark’s bevy of scientists champing at the bit to analyze his every cell. Shitty eternal life ahead, but that’s what you get when you try to kill Steve with your teeth.

“Is it true you broke him?” Clint grinned at Steve.

Steve covered his face. “Oh God, it sounds so dumb. But yes. My skin’s just strong enough to withstand vampires.”

“But bullets can kill you…?” Clint blinked at Bucky and away again. “And I’ve seen you with hickies. That don’t make sense.”

“I dunno,” Steve shrugged, ignoring the hickey comment. Bucky smiled. “It’s weird enough that he tried to bite me. A complete stranger tried to  _ bite  _ me.”

Clint and Bucky shrugged.

“Ain’t unlike Prospect Park on a Friday night,” Bucky said.

“Ride the F train and then talk to me,” Clint added.

Steve just sighed and leaned over in his chair, face in his hands. 

“It’s okay, pal,” Bucky cooed, patting Steve’s hair. “Your date with the devil is over.”

**Author's Note:**

> All errors are mine. Thanks for reading!


End file.
